With All the Pieces of My Heart
by TikiCat
Summary: It is a new time and place, in which Link must fight a new enemy and his doppleganger struggles to find his own identity. Meanwhile, a war brews within the heart of a princess as she is forced to accept that she just might love the scruffy, rough-around-the edges farmer enough to marry him. Written by Zorayda of the TikiCat team.
1. Prologue: Dopplegangers and Damsels

The air crackled with electricity and magical energy, casting an otherwordly violet sheen across the pale stones of Hyrule Castle's pale walls. The tendrils of magic formed and converged slowly, twirling softly as they began to meet upon a central point.

A sentry, dressed in decorated armor, snapped his attention to the strange sight as it began to hum with growing intensity. His eyes narrowed in confusion and suspicion; he knew some things about magic, and therefore recognized its signature glow. However, he'd never actually witnessed it in action, and that was what, inevitably, killed him.

A sudden sizzling sound split the air as the dark light found a life force to devour. The sentry didn't even have time to feel fear properly before the magic had used his body's energy for its own purposes. The colors ceased to exist and became the absence of light, a black, amorphous mass that gyrated upon itself in a similar fashion to that of the fabled Like-Likes of the mountains. The mass did not make a sound, but its movements suggested that it was in some sort of pain; it writhed upon itself piteously upon the ground, confused and desperate to find definition.

A tall, cloaked figure slid from the darkness of night to look down upon the unholy creature. The man's expression and face could not be seen, for his hood was up and the shadow lay across his features. He waved a black-gloved hand impatiently and a single hair, blonde in color and short in length, landed among the quivering waves of the creature's body. This made it freeze and vibrate rapidly before wrapping in upon itself, twisting its own shape and solidifying into something else. The man watched impassively as the creature morphed into a more defined form, a body.

Its eyes were pinpoints of glowing crimson, its mouth gaping with warped teeth; limbs pointed in skewed directions, and ribs jutted out of its forming torso like a grotesque version of a sculptor's unfinished work. The blackness of it began to melt away, first turning sanguine, then fatty yellow; finally, a light flesh tone. The thing panted with its new lungs and blinked with its fresh eyes. The transformation was finished.

The thing stood up, naked as a newborn babe. It locked its gaze forward, now the image of beauty and perfection.

"Master," it murmured with a man's lips and smooth tenor voice.

The sorcerer made no comment, but turned away from the man born from darkness to melt into the shadows once more. The creature followed obediently.

* * *

He was doing this for his village.

Link Forester swept a hand through his messy blonde locks to swipe a bit of the sweat from them, a crude but effective sword gripped between the fingers of his left hand. Worn fingerless gloves adorned his hands and went up his forearm, the leather scarred from numerous practice sessions such as this. He was in the castle sparring grounds again, allowed in as an open invitation to all who wished to compete for the princess's hand in marriage.

_Marriage-to some woman I don't know, let alone love, _he thought bitterly.

The young man's brows furrowed over intense cerulean eyes. This exact thing was what had been bothering him for several weeks now, since his village had begged him to go try out in the tournament to 'win' Princess Zelda as a wife and to become the steward King. Rumor had it that it was the Princess's idea, since the stuffy advisors and royal staff kept trying to press frilly princes as husbands upon the recently coronated Zelda. She couldn't be called 'Queen' until she married, however... a very old-fashioned and sexist idea, but tradition nevertheless.

It was the fact that Link was competing for her under false pretenses that bothered him so badly. If it wasn't for the village... if he didn't desperately need money and commerce for the people he loved and saw every day, he wouldn't have competed at all.

Link grunted as he sat heavily upon a stone bench, ignoring the clanging and shouting around him. Sure, nearly everyone wanted to marry the princess just to become king, but Link would never feel right about it. He hadn't told anyone, but he believed strongly that marriage was about finding a good, kind woman that he could fall in love with, court, and marry, upholding promises to her and having children that they would raise up to be honest and just. Competing for the hand of a woman he'd never even seen in person was crushing his heart very slowly. He would be forced to resign to this woman, this frilly monarch who probably couldn't even look at a grubby dog without fainting.

He snorted in amusement, trying to imagine a dainty woman (he truly had no idea what Zelda even looked like, so he substituted in a girl from his imagination) putting a gloved hand on her head and falling backwards as a cute, muddy puppy looked up at her with adoring eyes.

Feeling disgusted with himself and the whole situation, Link angrily sheathed his sword, cursing under his breath. He pulled off his gear with the intention of visiting the royal stables when movement above him caught his eye.

A woman stood upon an ornately decorated balcony, the stone carved out of alabaster or something similar. The wind blew her long hair away from a delicately sculpted face, revealing the fine features of a lovely female. She had full lips, slanted, dreamy eyes full of intelligence, a dainty nose. Her ears were Hylian, of course, with pointed tips that poked out of her hair. She was leaning against the balcony siding, her hands unconsciously gripping the edge. Her dress hugged her slender figure and hid her legs from view, though the tips of small feet clad in slippers were visible. She seemed to be thinking about something as she stared off into the sky, perhaps something important or troubling. A tiny line formed a frown between her brows and made Link want to march right up there and make her smile for him.

The wind changed direction slightly and moved to reveal a golden tiara atop her head, and suddenly Link felt his stomach turn to ice. He absently remembered that one of the boys from Ordon told him that Princess Zelda was rumored to be the most beautiful woman in Hyrule, though he'd dismissed it at the time. Link knew now that this was no exaggeration.

Warmth surged in his heart; first, from the realization that he'd be fighting for a woman he admired, and second, from the heat of battle-lust and determination. If anything else, he wanted to know exactly what lay beyond that serious but beautiful face and those mysterious eyes.


	2. Chapter One: First Blood

**Hello! I only wanted to say a few quick words to the audience before starting this chapter. First off, thank you to the reviewers who took their time to write a comment for me! Secondly, to those who tracked or favorite this story—hopefully you continue to enjoy my work. Lastly, a huge thank-you to my good friend SnowyCheetah for editing my chapters for me. The first chapter has been fixed and tweaked here and there, and it sounds MUCH better now. I shall ask him to review and critique this one next, so forgive me if there are typos or grammatical errors in my writing. **

**Without further ado, here is Chapter One: "First Blood".**

* * *

_The princess sighed daintily as she looked wistfully out the window, her face the image of royalty and femininity. Her elegant hands were gently pressed upon the ornate windowsill, as if she longed to be outside with the birds that twittered in the air. Her flaxen hair tumbled down her back and spilled over her shoulders, and the sunlight created a magnificent sheen across each—_

The foreign ambassador finally passed out of eyesight and broke the spell of beauty at last. Zelda Harkinian let out a gusty and extremely un-ladylike huff, her back hunching into a more comfortable position. Zelda dragged herself away from the window. She should have been preparing for dinner, but the princess found herself restless yet again. She vaguely wondered if any royal truly _liked_ being a royal, aside from power, cooped up inside as they always were.

Her fingers itched to pull her hair back into the ponytail she favored when riding her horse, but she refrained from doing so with more than a little irritation. It had been far too long since she'd last been able to leave her own castle. She was counting the days in her head since her last outing when the clanging of swords caught her attention. Zelda found herself drawn to the window to watch men and boys of varied ages and nationalities practice for the next day's tournament. _The tournament,_ she thought bitterly, _that will decide who I am forced to be with intimately for the rest of my days._

Being reminded of the competition for her hand in marriage did nothing to better the young woman's mood, but she went to the large window that overlooked the sparring area anyway. She kept herself from wrinkling her nose in disdain at the amount of force the men were using.

Zelda tried to make herself feel less ire towards the situation, only to ball her fist in the fabric of her delicate dress. Turning on her heel, Zelda marched away in cold anger.

* * *

The day of the tournament had arrived.

Princess Zelda Harkinian of Hyrule, daughter to the deceased King Daphnes Harkinian VI, wore golden armor over her dress. It was minimal, and served no purpose save for decoration, but it looked magnificent on her. A golden, winged helm rested upon her head. It was encrusted with sapphires and rubies that cast thousands of stars upon the audience, while the armor upon her chest and shoulders boasted immaculately cut emeralds. Each gem symbolized one of the three Goddesses; sapphire for Nayru, Goddess of Wisdom; ruby for Din, Goddess of Power; and emerald for Farore, Goddess of Courage. Zelda held a replica of the fabled Master Sword with both hands wrapped around the pommel and the tip pointed down between her feet, waiting.

A small man dressed in page's garb read script aloud from an ornate scroll.

"The rules of the tournament are as follows: No man shall kill another man at any time during this tournament. Maiming is discouraged, though allowed in this arena today. Any weapons or armor may be used, but they must be blunted by either magical or practical means. If your weapon is not blunted, one of the Royal Mages will do so before you begin your battle. The winner of each battle is determined thus; the opponent is rendered unconscious, mortally wounded, unwilling to battle, or he must yield to you willingly. If any foul play is suspected, you will be disqualified immediately. May Farore give you the courage to face your opponents, Din give you the power to remain standing, and Nayru give you the wisdom to fight with honor."

He rolled up the scroll and discreetly disappeared back into the mass of nobles after his speech.

The crowd remained silent as if enchanted by their princess's powerful beauty. The shadow cast by Castle Town's sundial crept by slowly; men with crude swords and armor stood with bated breath as they awaited Her Majesty's signal. Link , waiting on the sidelines, felt a bead of sweat tease the back of his neck.

Finally Her Majesty's sword swung skyward, and the tournament began.

Chaos ruled the battlefield as men of all ages rushed at each other, pairs of them only confined by chalk lines on the field ground. The screeching of crude metals grinding against each other fueled an intense eagerness in Link's gut, something he'd never felt before. His fingers wrapped around gaps in the metal fencing to bring himself closer to the action.

The roaring of fighting men, the clanking of armor, the swishing noises of swords as they sliced through the air—it was battle as the peaceful farmer had never experienced before. He saw as they sidestepped, swiped, grunted and dodged, as they howled in pain or grit their teeth and got up again. Link felt a piece of himself awaken that he'd never experienced, some part inside that hungered for battle.

Swordplay and fighting weren't new concepts for the Ordonian, for certain. Link had sparred countless times with friends his age and even the experienced village elder, who knew a thing or two about real battle. Link had even had to fight off wolves at one point.

But this was something else entirely. Real fighting, a real purpose for charging an opponent and putting all of your effort into it—it sang to the young man's blood. A horn blared in a signal to cease all fighting and Link was urged forward. Now, it was his own turn to fight.

Link's heart was still completely torn concerning the issue of marrying an unknown woman, monarch or no, but all rational thought left his mind as a bull of a man was brought into Link's squared-off arena. Bull-man was all muscle and sweat, enhanced by the man's bare chest and legs. Only a simple, barbaric belt and short breeches made up the man's outfit, as well as a huge, rusty axe clutched in his meaty fist.

"Ha! Little shrimp, I see. I'll finish you off quickly, I will," the man slurred confidently, looking down at the Ordonian from his huge height. Link remained silent, gripping his round, wooden shield and his iron sword in both hands. He owned no armor, so he wore none; instead, he wore soft leather boots, simple breeches, and his most snug white tunic.

"I might actually feel a li'l sorry for yeh, mate," the bull-man continued, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. The horn blared.

Bull-man bellowed loudly, drawing himself to his full height and brandishing a dull axe. The extremely intimidating sound, combined with the noise and confusion of battle all around him, caused Link to flinch for an instant. The bull-man took advantage of this and bludgeoned Link's temple with the butt of his axe. The smaller man immediately crumpled to the ground.

Bull-man stamped his feet in ecstatic triumph. A nearby official jotted down a quick note at the scene and moved to observe the next battle, only to hesitate and train his eyes upon the fallen farmer.

Eyes wild, Link got painfully to his feet. His vision swam and his head was pounding, but he was standing, staring defiantly at the giant who had tried to put him down. Bull-man lowered his head and massive shoulders, much like the animal Link had associated him with. Link only twitched his sword in answer before charging forward silently. His opponent laughed openly at the bold move, only to howl in pain as Link's dulled sword nearly sliced through flesh on the huge man's left thigh. Instead, it caused immense pain and would probably bruise colorfully over the next few days.

Bull-man looked shocked that someone had caused him physical pain and touched the injury. After inspecting it in dumb surprise for a full ten seconds, the huge man bared his teeth at Link like an animal. The cords in Bull-man's neck stood out in sharp relief, serving only to exaggerate his bulk, but Link could no longer be intimidated. Battle-lust surged through Link's veins, making the blonde simply narrow his oceanic eyes at his opponent.

Bull-man surged forward, axe raised high, but Link had already disappeared—only to reappear just as suddenly behind the big man. The farmer made a quick but vicious pommel strike to Bull-man's lower spine, causing his great head to rear back in pain. Link took advantage of that moment to wrap his arms around the other man's neck, bear hugging it even as his long legs dangled below. Bull-man struggled and bucked, but Link had other plans.

Bringing the blade of his sword to the beefy man's throat, Link brought his lips to Bull-man's ear.

"Yield, and you will not die," the farmer stated calmly. It was funny, Link thought, how quickly a full-grown man could be brought to tears.


	3. Chapter Two: A Fair Fight

**Hello, readers! Just a quick note to answer a few of my reviewers from chapter 2's reviews, and to acknowledge those who have been helping me get this story going!**

_**IceChalk- I'm so glad the battle scene made you feel excited! Fighting is tough for me to write, so it's good to hear that my efforts paid off. Also, being a princess can indeed be a pain… but it's more of a pain when you are ruled by a princess who is less kind than Zelda. Thanks for the review!**_

_**Kristifa Skywalker-Ah, well, he had it coming. Pick on the underdog and he may surprise you! Thanks for the review!**_

**Thank you so much for reading, reviewing, tracking, or favoriting this story! Also, a huge shout-out to SnowyCheetah, who has been my beta reader for this story so far. *pats him***

**Here is the next chapter for your enjoyment!**

* * *

Link was made to fight a handful of battles battles after the Bull-man, using tactics he'd only just gleaned from previous fights. He learned the importance of knowing when an enemy could be intimidated and when one needed to lull the opponent into a false sense of security. He learned to watch his footing and keep emotions in check. He learned how to dodge.

The fifth battle in, Link felt the adrenaline beginning to wear off. Though he'd had a chance for water and a brief rest, the tournament had to continue until the combatants numbers dwindled down for the semi-finals and finals scheduled for the morrow. It was with aching limbs and a weary mind that the farmer from the humble village of Ordon trudged into his fifth match. He quickly sized up his opponent: a slender, long-limbed man with eyes like fire. In his hand he held only a dulled short sword that looked old and battered from years of use.

Link jumped in preparation for an attack as the slender man made an abrupt movement. Looking down, he realized that his opponent had only reached out for a handshake before battle. Link noted that his muscles were trembling and realized that this man must have been as exhausted as he was himself.

"Kafei," the slender man introduced shortly. His breath stopped him from further comment, but Link knew that there was much more behind that one word—it was a man's promise of upholding honor in a battle. The farmer found himself grinning fiercely as he took Kafei's hand and shook it.

"Link," he answered. He noticed that Kafei had a very unusual eye color—they were deep crimson, and looked as if they held intelligence behind them. The farmer knew he'd finally found a decent opponent to fight today, and each of them were as determined to win as the other.

The tournament horn sounded, and both men _moved_.

* * *

The princess watched the proceedings dispassionately and wished she were somewhere—_anywhere—_else. Her expression did not falter as one man broke another's leg, proceeding to bear down and beat him to a bloody pulp until the standby guards pulled the first man away. He struggled and yowled like a maddened animal as he was carried away to be calmed down for the next match. The visage of detachment remained intact as a young teen crumpled to the ground like a fragile bird, the victor digging the heel of his boot into the teen's temple and spitting on the ground in disdain. She didn't flinch when an unlucky peasant caught the brunt of a club's blow, blood and teeth exploding from his mouth before he collapsed in the dirt, moaning.

_This is insanity, _she thought to herself frantically. _What have I agreed to? They are harming one another in a competition for _me_! _Her jaw clenched a miniscule amount, but the old man to her right noticed even that tiny action. Rauru, the head of her council, touched the princess's gloved hand in what he must have thought was an appropriately fatherly manner.

"Please, Your Majesty. I know it is hard to bear these… _beasts_, but a strong man is needed in for your protection in this hard time. Your father's recent death—"

"I am aware of my plight, Rauru, though I resent the implications by the council that I need a _man_ to protect me," Zelda interrupted, her tone light and pleasant. "And I would appreciate it if you would not call my subjects beasts. They are _men_ who are desperate for power to help their own people and families, not mindless animals. I care for _each_ and _every_ one of them," she paused here for effect, keeping her tone calm and even. "I care for each of them even more than I care for you. _Do_ remember that. Oh, and Councilman Rauru?"

The councilman was obviously fuming by this point. A vein throbbed gently at his temple and he took a moment to compose himself before answering. "Yes, Princess?" he responded dutifully.

"My father's death is _not_ something I wish to speak of with you ever again. You are dismissed."

The old man bowed his head jerkily before shuffling his large body away from the princess and back with the rest of the council members who watched from cushioned seats in the stands. Zelda's hands itched to rub her temples, but with the crowd possibly watching, she could not let decorum slip whatsoever. Instead she began to picture herself in the garden, surrounded by vivid colors and pleasant smells.

She had almost begun to daydream when a distant battle caught her eye. The two fighters were young, but not too young, and both had a slender build that allowed more for speed than strength. Her brow quirked in reluctant interest and she leaned forward to watch them.

One of the men, a raven-haired sword wielder, was being backed into the edge of their square by a blond man who also fought with a sword. Flurries of blows were exchanged so quickly that it was difficult for Zelda to catch with her eyes. She knew experienced swordsmen when she saw them… and these two men were not experienced. In fact, the blond one did not defend very well, choosing to ignore his shield half of the time and instead leaving himself open as he attacked. The raven-haired one was the opposite, choosing to evade and defend but never attack. But even with these flaws, the two men were naturally talented. The blonde moreso than the raven, she decided, though the latter could be offered a job as a guard or sentry if he so wished. She made a mental note to seek him out later.

The blonde was tireless. He just kept coming, even as the raven began to show signs of wearing down. Eventually, the blond man made a solid hit on his opponent's side. The raven immediately fell and struggled to get up.

Zelda held her breath as the blonde made his way towards the raven's prone form, expecting to watch the first man beat the other as he lay on the ground. She could feel her heart sink in disappointment in anticipation of what was going to happen, and watched as the blonde reached out—with his right hand, the one that didn't hold a sword. Zelda's jaw unclenched as she realized he held his hand palm-up… as an offer to help his opponent get up off of the ground.

It was a moment so unexpectedly noble in this Nayru-forsaken tournament that the princess momentarily forgot her composure and let her hands cover her mouth in surprise. Zelda recovered quickly and straightened on her thronelike seat. The raven had yielded to the blonde in a friendly defeat.

_I wish the rules had stated that the man with the best sportsmanship would be most eligible for marriage, _the princess thought to herself in hindsight. Not long after the young men's battle ended, the horn sounded once more for the final fights of the first part of the tournament. Hundreds of men would go home, disappointed that they would not have the chance of ever being with their princess as a husband or in a place of power. But before they left, their princess would speak a few words to lighten their hearts.

Princess Zelda stood and allowed attendants to readjust and polish her brilliant golden armor before she held the sword again. The movement brought a respectful silence to the crowd, and nothing could be heard save the cicadas in the distance.

"My subjects and warriors, it is time to bring the day's competition to an end. Many of you fought valiantly, but only those of true valor will be allowed to continue in the final battles that the morrow will bring. Your determination and enthusiasm gladden my heart, but alas, only those who have not experienced a loss today will be able to fight again. Your princess gives those who attempted victory my utmost gratitude. May Nayru guide you, Din give you strength, and Farore give you a determined heart."

As the peasants, noblemen, council members, and guards began to leave for their homes, an idea began to form in the princess's head—something ludicrous, but absolutely enticing.

* * *

Dusk had fallen before the princess finally came to her favorite part of the day—going to bed. It was the only true alone time she had and it gave her the peace to rethink the day. The blonde man kept coming to mind, how strong he was even through his lack of fighting experience, and his kindness to his opponent even as they fought against one another. She hadn't seen him up close, but she was curious as to what his face looked like.

Zelda slipped into a comfortable gown and set all her jewelry aside before sitting at her vanity, where there was someone waiting. This was the person she'd wanted to talk to, especially concerning the idea she'd had after the first day of the tournament. After the normal greeting, she explained what her plan was to the one helping her prepare for bed.

"Zelda… you do know that the council will be suspicious of your actions and that they will try looking for you." Impa, Zelda's nursemaid and best friend, shot the princess a reproachful look through the mirror as she helped Zelda take her long hair down.

"I know…" Zelda sighed. "But if I _don't_ do this, then I won't know for certain that the winner truly is capable of being my _protector_." She crinkled her nose as she said the last word. "I want my own satisfaction out of this silly tournament, not just the blasted council's."

Impa stopped messing with her friend's hair and leaned down to give her a brief hug."You always were set on getting your way. Do what you wish then, Zelda, but don't come running to me if it doesn't turn out the way you want," the tall woman warned kindly.

"I won't. I promise."


End file.
